On March 15, 2018, at 12:30 pm something happened that I
never dreamed I’d see. I had just spent the last 90 minutes participating on
BYU’s LGBTQ & SSA Student Forum panel with Kait Wright, Sarah Langford, and
Gabe Cano. Each of these people is a dear friend, and we were selected to
represent each of the letters in the acronym LGBT. I was the G. We had all been
vulnerable, honest, and hopeful as we answered questions from the audience, not
mincing words as we discussed tough experiences. Then, as the panel ended, the
completely packed auditorium burst into applause and a sincere standing
ovation. As I watched hundreds of people rise from their seats, my eyes welled
with tears at this spontaneous gesture.
As I discussed this moment later with my straight friends,
some of them explained what it felt like to be in the audience applauding. They
said that they applauded the panelists because of our courage to openly share
our stories. They were validating our life experiences and our engagement with
faith, belief, love, acceptance, and contradiction. They were celebrating us
because of the courage it takes to not give up or feel bitter while reconciling
our faith and our unique circumstances.
Later that day I read some news stories about the event,
including one from The Salt Lake Tribune. I was deeply disappointed by the
content of the article. It focused on the negative things the panelists said while
completely leaving out the good. I felt misrepresented. Part of the article
stated, “Ben Schilaty is still figuring it out,” referring to my connection to
God. I don’t recall saying that, and that’s definitely not how I feel. A number
of people who were at the panel told me that the synopsis in the Trib did not
reflect the feeling or message of the event.
There were so many beautiful moments that captured the
essence of what we were trying to share. Moving messages, like when Gabe recounted
his mission companion’s response, when he opened up about his feelings, “You
know, we’re walking on holy ground.” The whole student forum felt like holy
ground. Or Sarah explaining her mother’s beautiful acceptance of her as a
teenager, telling her she didn’t need to label herself. Or the story I shared
of the extremely positive responses I received from my students in the Spanish
class I teach on campus when I came out to them last semester. Or the inspiring
things that Kait said, like how sharing authentic stories is part of building
the Kingdom of God.
The behind-the-scenes stories deserve to be told, too. Liza
(who uses the plural pronouns they, them, theirs) opened the panel and
constantly referred to their “team.” Liza’s team was dozens and dozens of LGBTQ
students who wanted to see this panel happen. These students passed out flyers
in the cold, and many of them came to the panel wearing rainbow shirts with
name tags that said, “I’m gay! Ask me questions!” This event could not have
happened without the work that so many students did to put it on. They deserve
to be honored for their work. And Liza coordinated almost 100% of it all. Liza
got a much-deserved standing ovation for all their work. Liza and their team
are my heroes.
During the panel, three lesbian members of Liza’s team sat
in the front row just 10 feet from me. I know them well, and I know that they
are no longer sure what they believe about the church. Whenever a panelist said
a comment they really liked, they would raise their hands in the air and snap,
demonstrating their approval. After the panel, they asked if their snapping was
distracting. I said, “I actually appreciated it. I’m super Mormon, and it was
nice to know that you were agreeing with what I was saying. I’m sorry that I’m
so churchy all the time.” One of them put her hand on my arm and said, “We love
that you’re so Mormon, Ben. You be you.” While our belief systems may currently
differ, they respected me enough to celebrate mine.
This event couldn’t have happened without a number of stars
aligning. Many of those stars were school administrators who, after taking the
time to understand us, worked tirelessly for this event to take place so the
campus community could hear our life experiences. Two weeks ago, we had a tense
few days trying to make a decision relating to the forum. One of the
administrators invited all of us over to his house on a Sunday night. A dozen
of us LGBTQ students chatted for about two hours with him until we came to a
decision on what to do. He showed us a picture his six-year-old daughter drew
that day that included a rainbow. She said she drew it because she knew some of
daddy’s friends love rainbows and because they make her happy. The story I see
from this event isn’t that BYU treats gay students poorly, but that a BYU
administrator gave hours upon hours of his time for this event to happen. He
has become a dear friend through this process to many of us.
While I was waiting my turn to answer the last question on
the panel I got a strong impression to tell the audience that this event
wouldn’t have happened without the support and help of administrators at BYU. Then,
like a dummy, I totally forgot to mention them in my closing remarks. As the
last two panelists spoke, I felt a pit in my stomach knowing that I had missed
an important prompting. As one of the moderators was sharing her final thoughts,
Sarah leaned over to me and said, “I feel like we need to say something about
the work the administrators have done to make this happen.” Incredibly relieved
I said, “I just felt the exact same prompting!” Sarah replied, “By the mouth of
two of three witnesses.” As soon as the moderator finished speaking, Sarah turned
on her mic and explained to the room, “I felt really compelled to say this. I
need all of you to know in this room that Liz [Darger] and Steve [Smith] are
just a small sample of the administration and faculty and staff here at BYU
that are doing everything they possibly can to make this a better place for the
LGBTQ members here at BYU. I am a witness that there are people here advocating
for you at every level of this university and that you can trust them. And I
just wanted to say thank you publicly.” That was the message the Holy Ghost
wanted everyone present to hear, and I’m thankful that Sarah had the courage to say something.
One of the last moments of the event was when Liza Holdaway asked
anyone in the room who identified as LGBTQ or same-sex attracted, and who felt comfortable
doing so, to stand. Probably about a fifth of the room stood, nearly 100
people, and the audience erupted into applause. I nearly burst into tears
watching my straight peers clap for my LGBTQ & SSA family. How on earth did
that moment not make it into the news? Liza was quoted in the Salt Lake Tribune
as saying, “LGBT and [same-sex-attracted] students don’t only exist at the BYU,
they belong at BYU.” I felt the truthfulness of their words as I watched the
applause.
Straight members of the audiences applauded, I later
learned, for the courage it took to stand up and be seen. There was a
recognition that everyone wouldn’t be walking out the doors that day with the
same beliefs and understanding, but that there would continue to be a diversity
of experiences and opinions. However, the LGBTQ & SSA students left feeling
loved, validated, and a little better understood. I believe it was a healing
evening for students who no longer wish to engage in Mormonism. There was an
understanding that day that, until we see each other as brothers and sisters,
we’re not yet where we need to be. This event felt like that start of a
campus-wide conversation that will continue to happen.
The real news is the years of work that LGBTQ & SSA students have done at BYU to have this important conversation on campus. The real news is that a
room full of BYU students gave a standing ovation to four LGBT students who
unapologetically told their stories. The real news is that a whole auditorium
of straight students applauded their LGBTQ & SSA peers for having the
courage to stand up and identify themselves. The real news is that the LGBTQ
& SSA students of BYU worked tirelessly to get this event to happen
successfully. And the real news is that BYU administrators were part of the
entire process and were visibly moved at the end of the event.
The world hasn’t felt different to me yet. My world feels
pretty much the same. And yet it’s not the same. The campus community at BYU is
having a conversation that I have not really seen happen before. I can’t wait
to see what having this conversation will do for all of us, as we listen to and
love and serve each other as individuals. There’s more real news to come.
